


Cold Comfort

by helena_s_renn



Category: Greta Van Fleet (Band), Music RPF
Genre: Bedsharing, Blow Jobs, Illnesses, M/M, Multi, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sibling Incest, Twincest, Vicks - Freeform, sick in bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-03
Updated: 2019-09-03
Packaged: 2020-10-06 04:00:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20500520
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/helena_s_renn/pseuds/helena_s_renn
Summary: Josh got sick and shows were cancelled at the beginning of 2019. His brothers? Not exactly professional nurses but they have their ways."I'm not good company at the moment," Josh began, coughed, then his fever-bright eyes shone brighter. "You don't want this ick, believe me."





	Cold Comfort

**Author's Note:**

> Everyone is/was over 18. 
> 
> No disrespect to GVF. Their RL orientations and relationships are none of my business. I'm not suggesting they're 'involved' in this manner. 
> 
> This is fanfiction. If you're unable to separate fiction from reality, you shouldn't be here. Play nice - comment moderation is on.
> 
> Enjoy the show!

Josh was sick, the 'under the weather' kind of sick. For days, he'd been coughing and wheezing, feverish and congested. His usual sunny, phantasmagoricracktastic disposition resembled that of an old Grizzly abruptly awakened from hibernation. No one dared to get any closer than to tiptoe into his room every few hours with more Gatorade and soup. A scratchy voice punctuated by a seal bark ordered them out every time.

Moreover, GVF were grounded. No one could stand in for his distinctive singing voice: not his twin, not anyone.

Having heard as much as he could stand, Jake crept past Josh's door and into Sam's den. "Sam! Josh's still sick." 

Sam was sitting in the middle of his bed, cross-legged with his acoustic, head bobbing in time, playing something bluesy. Headphones the size of his fists covered his ears, which he now pulled off, but he'd looked up in time to lip-read. "Tell me something I don't know. And don't you mean hacking up a lung and drowning in snot?" 

"Poor guy." While not ill himself, Jake felt his twin's misery. "We should go... keep him company. Keep him warm." 

"Chance catching his germs? No thanks!" Sam held up both hands in a 'Stop' gesture, marred on one side by the pick he still held. 

Jake took on the tone of voice reserved for explaining something simple to the very young. "We live in the same house - we already have his germs." 

"What's in it for me?" Sam asked shrewdly. 

"Well for one thing, not canceling our entire tour. You like money, right? Another velour leisure suit, circa 1977? More size 11 booties for your filthy feet? Enough product to fill seven bathrooms?" Jake made his eyes wide and round and cocked his hip. 

"No sexual favors?" Despite the nature of the question, Sam might've been a preschooler asking for cookies.

Lowering his eyelids to half-mast, Jake licked his lips. "You get those anyway."

"True, true..." Sam waved a hand and set his guitar down, resting the neck on a couple of pillows. "Alright, let's go make Joshy feel better." 

"Sam." 

Something in his older brother's voice - again - made the youngest pay attention. Josh could claim the position of eldest all he wanted, and he did; Jake had always been Sam's mentor of sorts. "What?"

"I didn't mean with sex."

"Good." Sam let out his breath, his posture relaxing. "That's your department anyway." 

It was. "That's off the table unless or until you feel otherwise." Jake got Josh to himself when it came to that, and he liked it that way. So did Sam. But Josh was his brother, too, he loved him, and he knew how much rode on the singer being able to sing. 

As typical, Josh's room smelled of candle wax, his cologne du jour, vintage clothes and hint of spunk. An overlayer of chicken noodle, cherry-flavored cough drops and Vicks hung like an invisible cloud. The curtains were closed, but a certain amount of daylight came though, late afternoon in mid-winter hours. The Joshua-sized lump under several layers of blankets growled at them as Jake and Sam entered the room. They'd made sure to detour through the kitchen first for more Gatorade. 

"We come bearing gifts," announced Jake. 

Josh lowered the blanket enough to allow the others to see sweat-flattened hair and flushed cheeks. "Good, I'm out," he croaked. He was shivering.

Rather than toss it across the room like he'd normally do, Sam brought his brother a bottle of the classic lemon-lime flavored drink, even twisting off the lid. While Josh propped himself up on one elbow to drink it, Jake felt his forehead. "Hot," he pronounced. "Your fever still hasn't broken." 

Chugging greedily, Josh sighed as he finished drinking. "Aaaahh. I'm too tired to make a joke. Thanks, bro," he smiled thinly up at Sam, who nodded and passed the proverbial ball to Jake.

"We're here to keep you company." The guitarist had his shirt off already. "And warm. Skin-to-skin contact."

"I'm not good company at the moment," Josh began, coughed, then his fever-bright eyes shone brighter. "You don't want this ick, believe me." 

Ignoring his twin, Jake ordered, in that seldom-used way of his that made everyone shut up and do whatever he said, "Sam, grab the Vicks. You get in behind him."

He got a questioning look, but Sam did it, circling around to the other side of the bed. Jake dropped his jeans and crawled into bed to face Josh, who gave a little groan. A minute later, Sam eased in behind. He'd left his tee-shirt on. Josh noticed, but didn't comment; Jake's skin and the heat might be enough. 

A moment later, Sam took the lid off the strong-smelling eucalyptus ointment and smeared some of it on Josh's back. 

"God, that stinks," Josh complained, rolling one shoulder as if to slough off the icy-hot sensation. "I hated it so much when we were little and now look at us." 

"'Cuz it works," Jake answered. "Sam, take your shirt off, too." 

"Aawww... that shit's gonna make my nipples sting." 

"Want me to rub it on your junk for you?" It was a high-handed question, but got the desired result, although Sam muttered something about 'raging bitchaholic' under his breath. 

Josh laughed, raspy and choked, followed by more coughing. When he could speak, he said, mock-severe, "You two keep up this verbal foreplay, who knows what'll happen." 

Sam scuttled back a few inches, nearly falling off the bed. 

"Don't be such a weenie, he's kidding," Jake scolded between snorts of stifled laughter. This he knew, and his eyes glowed for Josh as he felt a tentative response beginning to press against his crotch. 

Meanwhile, Sam resolved himself after another grumble or two about his poor searing nips and draped his torso over Josh's back, soon heavy and sluggish, then unconscious. Not moving at all, Josh slowly hardened into the heat against him; Jake had been like living stone and throbbing almost since first contact but managed, somehow, to stay still.

"He's out." Jake's whisper was a hiss of victory.

"Baby still needs his nap, huh?" Josh smirked, then turned his head away to cough into his hand. 

"Yep, he does. Speaking of out, though..." Under the covers, Jake rolled his hips into Josh's in a way that was far beyond suggestive for all that he barely moved. He murmured, "You wanna let the poisons out. How long's it been?"

"Three, no four days." This provoked a noise of incredulity. "I've been too sick... all stuffed up, can't even speak, much less sing. Or, y'know. It feels like I'm trapped." 

A hand slid up Josh's thigh and one finger stroked over very tender balls through his pajama bottoms. "I think your glands are swollen," came another whisper. "Let me help you feel better." 

They were, and Josh wanted that, so much. "Please, Jake... I ache all over." 

Jake knew the feeling. "I'll be careful. Promise." Once he'd untied the drawstring at the waist of Josh's sleep pants and eased them down just enough, he held his illness-weakened twin as well as he could, hand down between them moving in long, slow, rhythmic strokes. 

Pressing his sweaty forehead to Jake's, Josh squeezed his eyes shut and let himself feel every minute change and touch as a long-delayed orgasm built and built. It was bizarre, how Sam's sleeping, flaccid form behind him kept his embers banked. He wondered if he could come, though. His reserves of energy were nil; even the short verbal exchange with Sam and the thrill of Jake getting him hard had exhausted him again. 

Noticing, Jake wiggled down under the blankets. He kissed and licked his way over neck, chest, belly and groin, the skin salty, then a little ripe. Josh's entire body twitched once at the heat of his brother's mouth taking over. Unable to move much, Jake concentrated on sucking hard, slurping between breaths, getting his tongue coated with the tang of overcooked maleness. 

Tiny, hoarse moans fell from Josh's lips, more when one hand gathered his balls to support their weight and lift them for the final surge. "Need to come, Jake, they're so heavy..." 

Jake tightened his suction. His world narrowed to dark, close, the dick in his mouth leaking bittersweet onto his flailing tongue. He'd had dreams of his twin's disembodied erection so many times, always just out of his reach, that every time he got to use any part of his body to touch, lick, suck, fuck, it was like claiming back the emptiness. 

He couldn't see it other than in his mind's eye from memory, but Josh knew when Jake's cheeks hollowed, and he gave in to the imagery, those lips nearly identical to his own configured as his personal pleasure-giver. No one else knew to trace the invisible path of vein to slit up and down, up and down and prod into it. Josh's legs stiffened and he bit back a cry as his balls spasmed on and on to release the days' keepings. At the end it almost hurt, the dregs coming from so deep, and brought on a coughing fit that woke Sam only enough to flip over, his back now to Josh's sweat-covered, mentholatum-y one. 

Hair a mess beyond belief, Jake crawled out from under the blankets, panting hard. Tears of effort running from his eyes, lips bruised, he fumbled for the little blue jar Sam had dropped somewhere in the bed. Found it. He handed Josh a tissue, and took one for himself. 

"I can't do much," Josh whispered, blowing his nose. "But that was... I needed that. Worse than I knew." 

"Like I said, poisons." Jake matter-of-factly greased Josh's chest with Vicks using only his left hand, something not lost on Josh. "I'll take care of my..." No further elaboration was needed, and he turned away from Josh but then backed up and molded to his body. 

"I can hold you, and maybe play with your nipple," offered Josh, his less-stuffy nose buried in the hair at Jake's nape. He brought one knee up to give his brother a little friction between his thighs. 

Already Jake was doing himself, the quick, efficient movement of his arm unmistakable. He whispered again into the air layered in more eucalyptus and sweat, "Mm, mmm, Josh, wanna fuck you so bad, you better get well dammit... gawd, I'm so hard, this feels so good though. Sucking you off... got me going... gonna rub one out, in your bed..." He was thrusting into his own hand and squeezing Josh's leg between his. 

A minute later, Josh's finger found his erect little nipple, circled it and pinched. Biting his lip, Jake sped up and convulsed, shooting his load into the tissue, unable to keep several low groans silent. Wadding up the - very - used Kleenex, he set it on the bedside table next to Josh's collection from blowing his nose. "Don't reuse that."

"I'm sure it's soaked through." 

Jake smirked his agreement, but he wasn't done. He hadn't given his twin the intended mini-lecture yet. "Seriously, Josh, get well. You worry me. It's been like you're not even here. Like you're missing."

"If I could wish myself healthy, I'd have done that weeks ago, before we missed any shows or I ended up sick as a dog in bed." 

"Don't shrug it off next time. Not to me." 

"Well, it's not like this has happened before. I'm not some delicate little flower," retorted Josh.

"Maybe you're not, but you only have one throat." 

"Maybe I need a different sort of... cough syrup." This, of course, brought on more hacking, and giggles from Jake. 

"I've got just the remedy. But after your nap." 

"Too fucking right, 'after'," mumbled Sam.

Fin.


End file.
